One of These Mornings
by GiorgiaKerr
Summary: Some things happen in moments. Danny/Martin oneshot.


**Spoilers:** Each segment is exactly 100 words (by Word). There are ten.

**Disclaimer: **Just to be a cheeky (lazy) brat, this section will be 100 words as well.

**Author's Note: **Another **FCG** **Challenge** for the books!

1. Must include the phrase: "That's not like you."  
2. Must be any one of the following: Angst, Romance, Humor, Songfic, or Horror.  
3. Must involve the presence (or lack of presence) of an animal.  
4. Must be a minimum rating of K and a max rating of M.  
5. Each Segment must be exactly 1,000 words. Critiquers I expect you to check this!

* * *

Martin could pinpoint every single moment that had made this more than it was ever supposed to be.

It wasn't hard, really, because this was never supposed to be _anything_. Funny thing was, though, that while it was entirely unspoken, he knew Danny felt it, too. Could see it in Danny's smiles, in the way he looked at him across the bullpen every morning, in the way he turned towards him to sleep.

And it was disconcerting. This relationship had always been needy, but somehow it had become a necessity.

Really, Martin thought to himself, he should have known better.

* * *

Danny had never kissed him like this.

Honestly kissed him. Without real intent, but like he wanted to _prove_ something. Prove what, Martin hadn't a clue – knew that he wouldn't care until after Danny had left. But there _was_ something there making Martin's insides twist strangely: not the usual coiling of desire, but something deeper.

Something Martin hardly even recognised, only knew that it would scare the hell out of him if he thought about it.

And so Martin just classified it as an anomaly, and the next morning at work, he just nodded at Danny like he always had.

* * *

It was the first time they had woken up together and Martin wondered if Danny noticed, too.

It wasn't a quiet Sunday morning.

Wasn't even a Saturday morning, and Hell, Martin wondered if this even _counted_ as morning.

There weren't screams from the apartment across the hall, or gunshots in the street; not even a siren, and it amazed Martin that not even the paramedics seemed to be around this early.

But Martin grunted responses to Jack through his cell as Danny waited silently in the doorway of the bathroom.

No, it wasn't a lazy Sunday, but it was something.

* * *

Six o'clock.

It left Martin an hour to get home and change before going to work. An hour, because despite this thing with Danny, Martin still liked to be the first one into the office. Later, and people would ask questions.

Only today, it wasn't six o'clock.

It was six-forty-eight, and there was nowhere near enough time. What made it worse was that Danny would be up in less than an hour, and Martin didn't know the rules for this.

So he showered at Danny's. Put on yesterday's suit and grabbed the first tie he could find.

It wasn't his.

* * *

Martin was almost begging.

Ridiculous, really, because Martin didn't beg, and Danny knew this. Knew it and exploited it ruthlessly.

Which was probably the only reason that he let Danny tease him so much. That, and he knew that by the time Danny – _finally_ – stopped teasing, Martin would remember just how good sex with Danny was.

Only Danny was insatiable tonight. No, not insatiable – Martin was the insatiable one – he was incorrigible.

It was like he was _trying _to make Martin beg, and when Danny looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, Martin knew.

Tonight was about losing control.

* * *

It was the smell that woke him.

Not the smell of sweat and sex and Danny that usually filled his apartment after Danny had come home with him, but something infinitely more appealing.

Like a child, he shoved his face further down into his blankets, memories taking him to winter breaks spent at Bonnie's. Nostalgic warmth, comfort, and that smell that felt, really, like home.

He turned his alarm off two minutes before it buzzed and forced himself out of bed. Grabbed pyjama pants from his dresser and moved into the kitchen with a smile.

Danny had left him coffee.

* * *

_One of these mornings__._

The words repeated themselves inside his head, over and over.

_It won't be very long_.

It was stupid, really, because _months_ had passed without regret. And that had surprised him at first – still did, if he was honest – because he had expected to regret this from the first time.

Only this morning when he'd woken up, he'd wished for the first time that Danny had stayed.

_You will look for me._

The funniest part was that the words were words he had never expected to hear again – never _wanted_ to hear again.

_A__nd I'll be gone._

* * *

He wasn't really sure why it was such a surprise.

Shouldn't have been, considering their arrangement. If, indeed, they _had_ an arrangement.

They were sleeping together.

Not even sleeping together, really. They were having sex. Casual, unattached, fantastic sex.

That, to Martin, was not an arrangement, because nothing about their relationship was necessarily agreed upon.

So it came as a shock when Danny – buttoning his shirt, back facing Martin – looked at him over his shoulder and declared with a frown that he wasn't seeing anyone else.

_That's not like you_. Conversational, casual, but Danny knew better; he smiled.

_Isn't it?_

* * *

Seven months.

This was officially the longest relationship he'd ever maintained, and he was beginning to think that the only way to maintain a relationship was simply to not have one.

No white-picket fences, no rent contracts, or spare keys. They hadn't shared long weekends, bought a puppy together. Nothing more than a few casual dinners as friends, and Martin almost liked that the sex and the friendship weren't connected.

But tonight, Martin had finally deciphered the words that Danny had been whispering in his ear almost nightly for months, now, moments before collapsing on top of him.

_Te amo_.

* * *


End file.
